Not Every Secret is Created Equal
by Raina-Poo
Summary: After his mother's passing, Arthur moves in with his brother in America. There he meets a teenager named Alfred who is optimistic on the outside, but is hiding a dark secret from everyone he loves.
1. Chapter 1

Arthur was never on good terms with his brother.

The young blonde was only a child when his brother was a teenager, and Allistor had left for college when Arthur finished up fifth grade. The only clear memories he held were of the days that Allistor would tattle to their mother saying that the younger stole cookies from the batch that was setting out to cool. (Subsequently causing Arthur to persistently deny any wrong doing, with chocolate residue at the corners of his lips). Or times whenever Allistor would bring a friend, or his girlfriend of the month, over while their mother was out working. The little Kirkland begging and pleading for them to play with him. Only to end up sobbing when Allistor's patience reached its limit. Or, whenever Arthur would catch Allistor committing harmful deeds to his body in order to relieve his growing stress.

They never got along, their age gap being the main culprit behind all of that. Perhaps they did get along at one point, but as time crawled along they both erased those small moments from their minds.

But, as they stood side by side observing their mother's corpse in her casket, they came to an unspoken mutual agreement to keep all those petty fights behind them.

Guinevere Kirkland died from overworking herself to death. Both of her sons noted the bags under her eyes that makeup couldn't hide and the skin around her knuckles cracked, raw from the endless cycle of cleaning that consumed her life. Allistor stood as straight as a post, having learnt how to keep his emotions in a prison from the nights where his father hit his mother, to being hit himself, to the day where his father left for good when his mother went into labor. Allistor learned that emotions were a sign of weakness. He had to stay strong for others. Especially for Arthur, who was shaking like a leaf caught in a thunderstorm. Hands balled up, knuckles turning white, were kept down to his sides. His green eyes were slammed shut, tears prickling the sides of his eyes, and hidden behind the clear glass of his black frames. He was not making a sound, it was as if his throat clenched up and his vocal cords were ripped out.

Allistor noticed the behavior out of the corner of his eye, yet he didn't have the necessary compassion in order to comfort the brother. He never comforted anyone in his life, he didn't want to embarrass himself.

Unfortunately, there would be plenty of that when they move in together.

The small cottage that Arthur and his mother resided in was sold shortly after the funeral—along with the furniture save for a few trinkets that Arthur smuggled in his luggage. Allistor was renting out a two bedroom apartment in a moderately sized city in America. The empty bedroom was originally intended to be furnished into an office, whenever Allistor had the time. But it's original purpose scrapped when Arthur's belongings funneled in small waves before the man himself arrived.

Arthur arrived in America in a Sunday, being greeted by aggravating customs and monotone TSA agents who believed a malnourished child like him was capable of setting up a massive terorist plot. On top of that, Allistor slept in late and arrived an hour after Arthur was deemed safe to entire the United States.

Now there they were, sitting in Allistor's car thirty minutes away from the apartment complex.

"He'll be startin' a new school tomorrow. I signed ye up for classes based on yer past schedule, it's on the counter at home." Allistor spoke up, talking over to 80's radio station that Arthur was quite enjoying. "He don't have to wear a uniform, I'll wake ye up in the mornin'."

"You better not sleep in tomorrow or we'll both be in some serious trouble." Arthur quipped back, sarcasm laced in his voice yet his face held no emotion as he stared at the passing scenery on the freeway.

Arthur heard a loud groan escape from Allistor. "Ye better keep those comments to yerself. Or we're gonna have some issues, lad." At the sudden threat, Arthur hugged the urn that was resting in his arms closer to his body.

Arthur remembers moments in his childhood when Allistor said that he was going to have a talk with someone after school. It often resulted in a teenager missing their two front teeth and their mother being called out of work to defend her son in front of the principal. Remembering these moments made Arthur silent for the rest of the ride.

Shortly thereafter, they arrived to a building boasting eight floors. Children were playing in the grass—garnering grass stains on their clothes and scrapes on their knees—some of them halting and peering at the new person who entering the complex. Inside the lobby sat the landlord counting the money for tenants rents. He glanced up when he heard the door open and close.

"Ah this is the younger brother!" The landlord said, his accent an unidentifiable Mediterranean one, not Italian, nor Spanish, but neither one of the brothers could identify it. "It's a pleasure to meet 'chu!" He waved, winking and causing some of his brown licks to fall to his face.

Arthur shyly waved in returned, being drowned in the landlords optimism. He went back to hugging the urn closer to his chest and waiting for Allistor to guide him up to the apartment.

Allistor was not the most social type either, since he just nodded at the landlord and lead his baby brother to the stairs. In silence, they climbed three flights of stairs before Allistor walked down a hallway and stopped in front of a wooden door that said 'C8' on the outside. A jingle resonated in his pockets as he fished for his keys.

"Before I open this door, I am gonna lay down some ground rules for ye." Allistor suddenly halted, the silver key wedged in the lock. "First off no parties. It doesn't matter whether I'm here or not. If I find out ye threw a party... Ye better be prayi-"

"Alright, alright I get it." Arthur interjected, readjusting the urn in his hands nervously.

Allistor huffed in annoyance, but decided against scolding his younger brother. "Second, yer curfew is nine-thirty. No reason that ye should be out past then. Third, keep yer room clean and always clean up yer own messes. Yer old enough that I don't have ta' pick up after ye."

"Is that it? Should I refrain from sneaking in boys? Or sneaking away sips of yer alcohol?" Arthur joked, his sarcastic tone drenching his words and causing Allistor to huff and glare down at him.

"Yer a junior in high school. I hope ye've grown up since the last time I saw ye." Allistor mumbled to himself before unlocking the door and pushing it open.

A faint whiff of tobacco tickled Arthur's nose, reminding him of moments where he would catch Allistor smoking cigarettes he stole from gas stations with his friends. The brothers both removed their shoes by the door, all without speaking another word. Allistor went over to the refrigerator and acquired an ice cold beer can. Cracking it open, Allistor took a sip of the foam that accumulated at the top of the can. As Arthur began wandering around the apartment—becoming acquainted with his brother's horribly bland decorations—Allistor migrated to the couch and flipped on the television. He occasionally took a sip from his beer before kicking his legs up on the coffee table. Rather than bore himself by watching a new caster with no personality, Arthur traveled down a miniature hallway adjacent to the living room, finding an open room littered with cardboard boxed labeled with words such as 'Clothing' or 'Books' in Arthur's beautiful cursive handwriting.

Despite his jet lag begging him to crawl on that bed and descend into slumber, Arthur sighed to himself before mumbling, "Here goes the rest of your evening."

Arthur carefully placed down the urn on the dresser that was covered in dust. He ensured it wasn't damaged before softly speaking. "I made it to America, Mum..."

With his feet dragging against the floor, Arthur went over to a stack of boxes and opened up the one on top that was labeled 'Trinkets' and peeled back the flaps concealing his belongings. A small plush from his childhood, small statues of animals from pottery classes, notebooks containing stories he wrote whenever he felt alone, lastly the only picture containing the brothers with their mother that Arthur looted as he called Allistor after discovering his mother's body.

The brothers were visiting their mother at her job at a retro diner. The two were smiling and sharing a milkshake. (Well it was more like Arthur was stealing sips). Their mother was leaning over the other side of the counter. A loving look painted over her face, but now Arthur noticed a cry for help in her eyes. They were drowning in stress, in anguish, in pain. But, seeing her children managed to bring a compassionate look to her face.

Arthur hugged the photo frame tightly to his chest. "I'm sorry." He breathed out. He felt his throat grow dry and his eye beginning to well up with tears.

Knowing his uncontrollable emotions, Arthur was about to enter a sobbing session. However, the sudden appearance of his brother in the doorway caused him to swallow his sorrow before he made a fool of himself.

"Oi, I..." Allistor began, leaning on the doorway with his arms crossed and gaze pointed downwards. "... might've acted harsh towards ye ever since ye've been here." Arthur raised an eyebrow at this. "I know it's been hard for ye since ye found Mum and all... geez why am I doin' this? I can't explain me emotions well." The elder admitted, a tint of red flushing his cheeks out of embarrassment.

"Join the club, you could be my Vice President." Arthur's quick wit shot back.

The blonde placed the photo down on the bed, facing down so Allistor couldn't catch a glimpse of it. The elder remained in the doorway and watched as Arthur began scavenging boxes for books to place on the bookshelf beside his bed.

"If you are just going to stand there and gawk at me, I think your time would be better spent doing something else. Don't you think?" Arthur eventually said, causing Allistor to purse his lips in a straight line and stand upright.

Nothing more had to be said for the brothers to understand that they needed to be alone for now.

The rest of Arthur's day was spent unpacking. He came to the conclusion that he shouldn't become over emotional over his belongings. If he did that perhaps moving in would go by faster. He tried to forget the sentimental value some of his items held. His copy of 'Macbeth' that his mother bought him for his sweet sixteen just turned into meaningless pages of text bound in leather. The baby blanket he still slept with that his grandmother knitted before she died became a worthless piece of cloth.

He was so hyper focused on getting his belongings unpacked that he didn't hear Allistor calling him numerous times for dinner. The elder receive the message that Allistor wanted to be left alone. He sensed a pinch of venom in that voice earlier. He simply baked a frozen pizza, taking into account the consideration for those with low-level cooking skills. He hoped that Arthur would smell the food and wander out, having taken note of the lack of fat his brother held. Thirty minutes and twenty shouts later, Allistor assumed the term did not want to eat.

For a moment, Allistor acquainted the lack of appetite with Athur's I naturally skinny body, but he later shook it off as a sign of exhaustion from jet lag.

Allistor ate all to his lonesome as Arthur finished his unpacking—leaving the empty cardboard boxes in an empty corner of the bedroom. By the time he finished however, the apartment was eerily silent... save for the snoring erupting from the bedroom next to his. Sighing, the blonde changed into his pajamas that he left out neatly folded and collapsed into the bed that was pushed up to the left side of the room—being right under a window.

In England, it would be roughly three o'clock in the morning. Unfortunately for Arthur, he was still trapped in England's time zone. He didn't even have time to crawl under the comforter. No, as soon as his head hit the pillow his exhaustion took control and dragged him into slumber.

The extremeness of the exhaustion was apparent, considering the nights he spent awake after his mother's death, the stress of having to move in with Allistor keeping him awake, and his dreams playing the memory of finding his mother's body certainly kept him away from sleeping eight hours every night. However, that night nothing played in Arthur's dreams. There was nothing, like his brain was giving his body a chance to heal.

Arthur could've slept weeks if he was left undisturbed. But, Allistor had to wake him up for school.

It began as a soft tap in the shoulder followed by a whispered, "Get up". That didn't work in the slightest as Arthur just grumbled in his sleep and turned over. Sighing, Allistor preceded to shake his brother awake with a, "Get yer' ass up!" to greet his brother. Arthur shot straight up in bed, appearing startled for a moment before glaring at Allistor.

"Ah, ye've mastered that glare. Ye used to do it all the time when ye were young."

"Why did you wake me?"

"Ye start school today."

The word 'school' rang in Arthur's ears as the teen grunted and flopped back down on the bed. "Can't I start tomorrow? I'm exhausted."

Allistor shook his head. "Are ye sick?"

"No."

"Then that's yer answer." He smirked. "Now get movin', lad. I'm droppin' ye off before I go to work."

Allistor waiter as Arthur rose up from the bed before leaving his brother alone to get ready.

In England, his schoolmates never brought up his clothes in their insults. They all wore the same grey and navy blue school uniform after all. As trivial as it sounded, Arthur had to fret over his schoolmates bringing his clothes into their insults. It was such a stupid thing to work himself over, but Arthur's wardrobe consisted of baggy sweaters, dress pants, old band shirts, a few casual pants, one pair of scuffed up loafers, and one pair of black boots. From all the high school comedies he's seen, the characters wearing clothes like that were either the side character that got bullied or the socially awkward then who embarrassed themselves for laughs.

Arthur contemplated feigning a fainting spell, going as for as to plan where he should land to ensure he wouldn't injure himself terribly. The realization of having to go to school tomorrow hit him and he proceeded to gather clothes and showed up.

He settled for his favorite beige baggy sweater for comfort, some worn dress pants, his loafers, and his black frames that added significant amounts to his nerdy atmosphere. His mind was belittling him for such awful fashion choices, but Arthur was already stressed enough as is to listen to those insults.

Arthur was thankful he packed his backpack the night before because he came out of the bathroom dressed but supposedly late. Allistor was frantically frantically collecting his belongings whilst trying to tie his tie.

"Ye done, lad? Me boss called and asked for me to come in early. Somethin' about papers not being filed."

Arthur gulped. "Yes, I just need to grab my backpack."

"Great, let's get movin'!"

It seemed like a blur, but Arthur remembers rushing into his room and snatching his backpack. Afterward, both of them hustled out the door—Allistor nearly forgetting to lock the door if it wasn't for his neighbor—and running down the stairs.

On the car ride to school, Arthur silently wished that they would get into a car accident.

But when did Arthur ever get what he wants?

Before he knew it, Arthur was standing out front of his new high school. A courtyard of sorts laid before him. Students were lying down on the weed infested grass, students were sitting in the concrete ledges protruding from the ground, and students were walking inside. All of them were either in pairs or in groups. And here Arthur was, standing alone.

Already the odd one out.

The blonde felt his throat clench and his stomach flipping as the first day jitters were reaching its climax. He tugged at the sleeves of his sweater before hugging himself.

His emerald eyes kept jumping from person to person as he thought, 'Why am I so nervous? I must look like a complete and utter fool in front of everyone... splendid job Arthur..."

In an attempt to conceal his awkward actions, Arthur attempted to take a step forward and trudge through the courtyard. 'It's okay. I'm just going to take one step after the other and I will be inside in no time!' His leg lifted up slowly and was set back down on the ground with a snail's pace.

'Who am I kidding? I can't do this! Back in England my schoolmates despised me! It will only be the same here... my clothes are awful, I look awful, I feel awful.. how am I supposed to fit in? Ugh! I forgot to pack a lunch or bring lunch money... I'm such a bloody idiot! Perhaps if I run away to the forest nearby I could come up with a-'

"Yo, dude. You doin' okay? You've been standing there for awhile."


	2. Chapter 2

Arthur jumped and nearly screamed at the sudden intrusion of an unknown person. He peered to his right and found a teenage boy hawking at him. The boy had sandy blonde hair with a cowlick proudly standing up, and blue eyes that Arthur would grant had a tint of curiosity in them. The boy wore a varsity football jacket over a simple grey shirt, also adorning simple jeans and worn running shoes. That varsity jacket caused a few waves of paranoia to wash over Arthur—memories of his old school's rugby team in England resurfacing—but the Brit knew the other would only walked away when an answer was present.

"Y-yes. Everything is dandy."

"Yeah, no. That doesn't sound convincing."

Arthur's eyes widened a bit at that response. "Well, everything is fine. If you can't accept my answer then you can just leave!"

It was the boy's turn to be a little in shock, but that look melted away before Arthur could fully process it. "Listen, I know you're nervous because you're new."

"Hold on." Arthur interrupted. "How do you know I'm new here?"

"Last week an office aide said some guy from England was transferring here. I actually didn't know until you started talkin'. Your accent is kinda obvious. And when I say kinda I mean really obvious."

"Why didn't you say 'really obvious' to begin with?"

"Y'know I don't have very quick thinking, okay!"

As much as the Brit wanted to jab back at him, what the boy said about an office aide releasing his presence concerned him. Now that meant that everyone would be in the lookout for him. Perhaps he should call Allistor and-

"Name's Jones. Alfred F. Jones." The boy said, a beaming smile conquering his face.

"My name's Arthur Kirkland... pleasure to make your acquaintance." The Brit replied in a tone that was barely above a whisper.

At that point, the Brit was hoping this Alfred books would abandon the conversation and leave him to wallow in his misery. Except this boy was like a leach, and was adamant on annoying Arthur until the latter ripped his hair out.

"Gimme your schedule, I can guide you around the school."

The one thing that Arthur gained from this conversation was that Alfred wasn't offering his guidance. Meaning that Arthur was trapped with Alfred's company.

With a deep sigh, Arthur slipped his schedule out from his trouser pockets and handed it to Alfred. The American quickly scanned it before saying. "We got fifth and seventh hour together. But I can still show you around and everything."

Arthur simply shrug his shoulders in response and snatched his schedule back. And without another word, they were off.

Navigating though the student body seemed to naturally come to Alfred, as it seemed the crowd split when he came through. Some people congratulated him on becoming captain of the football team, others even stopping to high-five him for being promoted to team captain. However, Arthur wasn't having as much of a success navigating as Alfred. People bumped into him, or cut in front of him, or peered at him as he walked by. Arthur just wanted to become invisible and hide in the library. But, he would have to settle for just staring at his own feet for now.

However, Arthur bumped into Alfred as the latter stopped in front of a classroom on the first floor. "Here ya' are! Advance English with Mr. Reid." Alfred presented, turning around to face his companion. "No need to worry over this class though. The teacher is nice from what I've heard... but English is had. And that's ADVANCE English so I dunno how hard it's gonna be."

Arthur glanced at the propped open door and noticed no students were inside. "Thank you for getting me here."

"Yeah no sweat. When class is over I'll come by and pick you up for your next class, 'Kay?"

"Okay."

"Well, see ya' later!"

Alfred spun on his heels and hastily made his way up the stairs, Arthur watching him go until he was out of sight. Arthur's paranoia must have been acting up, since he felt someone's eyes burning into his skull. But, before he could glance around to see if another student actually was, he charged into the classroom before anyone else could bump into him.

"Good morning, welcome to English!" A masculine voice rang out, one that reminded Arthur of Allistor.

Arthur glanced around for the owner of that voice, and found a man with untamable red hair standing at the back of the room.

"You're the first one here and you're new! My other students need to take notes."

Arthur couldn't help but have a small smile creep onto his face. "Thanks..."

"My class roster doesn't have you listed yet, but my boss told me that I'd be getting a new student. He didn't tell me your name however."

"It's Arthur Kirkland, sir."

Mr. Reid's eyes widened at the reveal of his new student's name. He cleared his throat and looked away from Arthur.

Noticing this, Arthur quickly stammered out, "O-oh, is something the matter, sir?"

Mr. Reid quickly looked back at Arthur. "Nothing's wrong. Your last name just reminds me of someone I used to know before moving here."

Before Arthur could question who it was, another student walked in and took a spot in the front row, nursing a cup of coffee. Mr. Reid said, "The only row that doesn't have anyone sitting there is the back row." As he walked to his wooden desk at the front of the room.

Silently appreciating the top, Arthur hurried along to a spot in the middle of the back row and claimed a seat before any of the other students came in. Afterwards, Arthur retrieved a notebook and a black ink pen before watching a handful of students walk in. He noted three girls walking in along with a boy, however that group was too busy chatting away to take note of Arthur's appearance.

The chatter in the classroom melted away once the bell rung and Mr. Reid clapped his hands together.

"Alright, quiet down everyone." He began. "Today we have a new student in our class."

Immediately, all eyes were pointed in him and all he could muster was a small wave.

"His name is Arthur and he'll be joining us for the rest of the semester. Hopefully the whole year!"

Before any questions could be ask about where he came from, a boy that looked surprisingly similar to Alfred ran through the propped open door. The only differences that Arthur noted were violet eyes instead of blue, paler hair than Alfred's, and a body type that was not as muscular.

"I'm so sorry! My brother forgot to wake me up, and so had an incident with the coffee filters-"

"No worries, Matthew! You're lucky you came in before I took roll. But, you should invest in an alarm clock, I've had Alfred in my regular English course and he seems like the... forgetful type."

So they are brothers!

Matthew took a seat in the spot in fronting Arthur, in the middle row, next to a student with near white hair and piercing red eyes.

Mr. Reid continued on with the class, going on about contemporary artist being the Shakespeare of the modern era, how awful writing practices contribute to awful papers, and ended with the class checking out textbooks. The bell rang and all the students ran out of the class, though Arthur lingered around the door for Alfred to arrive. Luckily, he didn't have to wait for very long as Alfred showed up a minute after the bell rang.

"You ready to go?" Alfred asked, his voice wavering and his eyes avoiding meeting Arthur's.

However, Arthur's gaze landed on a fresh red spot on Alfred's skin. The edges were peaking out of Alfred's shirt—being rested on Alfred's collarbone. "Only if you tell me what happened to you right there." Arthur replied, pointing a skin finger at the spit were the skin discoloration was located.

Alfred's eyes widened behind his glasses. He adjusted his jacket to hide the spot before saying, "It's nothin'! Just fell down the stairs today that's all. Anyway! Let's get a move on!" He laughed nervously. "I remember seeing your next class is pre-calculus, so come on!"

Alfred's bizarre behavior only grew increasingly worse as the day went on. His speech became more and more erratic. He seemed to jump and flinch whenever someone addressed him. And his eyes always darted around, as if he was keeping an put out for something. The most odd thing about him that Arthur noted was that Alfred never addressed what was tormenting him. Whenever someone brought up his odd behavior, he brushed it off and brought out his obnoxiously optimistic persona.

During their fifth period together, Alfred's phone vibrated on the table before lighting the screen up with a notification. Alfred grabbed his phone and hid it under the desk before the teacher could see it— whilst also putting it in a place where Arthur couldn't take a peek out of the corner of his eye—and scanned over the text. Arthur noticed that Alfred was shivering as he slipped his phone back into his pocket.

Arthur furrowed his overly bushy eyebrows as he thought, 'Whenever I acted that way either was when Allistor caught me doing something bad or when I knew I was in for a beating with my schoolmates... what the bloody hell is wrong with him?'

The bell rang and their class was dismissed. However, when Alfred and Arthur rose from their seats Alfred said, "You go to lunch without me... I-I'll be a little late."

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "Where are you going though? I don't want to sit by myself."

"I'm just visiting a teacher. D-don't worry I'll be back in a jiff!"

"If you are going to be away from lunch for just a moment, why don't I come with you?"

"It's gonna be really boring!" Alfred's eyes glanced at the clock. "Well, I'm going to be late! See ya soon!"

Before Arthur could retort, Alfred sped out of the room, forgetting his chemistry textbook in the process. Arthur claimed it before speeding out the door in pursuit of Alfred. Despite the gnawing fear of his schoolmates, Arthur was determined to overcome his fear to uncover what was ailing Alfred.

Besides, Alfred was the first non-family member to talk to him voluntarily.

After exiting the classroom, Arthur glanced to his left and his right before spotting Alfred to the left—almost to the stairs leading to the first floor. Arthur was short enough to blend in with the crowd. Being five foot eight, almost five nine but give it one more year, among kids that were six feet seemed like a blessing at the moment. Arthur would hide behind someone every time Alfred turned around to see if the Brit was actually following him.

'You seem like a stalker, why are you doing this? If he finds out then you will have blown your shot at getting your first friend... besides Mum that is... But! If he is actually going to go see a teacher, perhaps it is his chemistry one and he will be thankful that I brought it to him! That gives me an excuse to see what is bothering him!' Arthur thought to himself, keeping up his strategy, appearing odd to his classmates for hiding behind particularly tall people.

Where Alfred was heading, however, students were not going to.

Alfred avoided the cafeteria all together and headed straight to the gymnasium. As the student body grew thinner and thinner, Arthur resorted to trailing further behind—since Alfred stopped glaring behind him after reaching the bottom of the stairs. By the time Alfred brushed passed the double doors of the gymnasium, both he and Arthur were the only students in that corner of the school. Since the doors were propped open, Arthur peeked his head in and observed as Alfred went to the back of the gym and entered he boy's locker room. Swiftly, Arthur sprinted across the gym—his backpack creating a plethora of sounds—before he reached the door.

The Brit did not even have to open the door to hear the yelling from within. It was muffled, but there was definitely yelling—like there was an argument occurring.

Arthur was perfectly content with standing by the door, eavesdropping yet not being able to decipher what was being said. He was perfectly content.

Until he heard someone being slammed into the lockers.

Arthur nearly jumped in shock. He bit down in his lip as he slowly cracked open the door, so as to not create abundant noise. The first thing he was greeted with was someone saying, "Don't try to defend that little prick... you were flirting with him weren't you? Is that why you were guiding him around? Even after my warning?"

"I-I wasn't flirting with him!" Arthur could hear the fear in Alfred's voice. "I was just trying to be nice!" Alfred whimpered.

The sound of a punch connecting to someone resonated through the locker room right as Arthur slipped past the doors and snuck in. The sound was followed by someone hitting the floor and crying out in pain.

"Don't you dare lie to me you little slut!" The unknown man shouted. "I'm the reason why you are on the football team and that you're team captain. You're acting so ungrateful right now!"

Alfred did not respond.

Arthur squeezed the chemistry textbook in his grasp. As he searched for a place to hide. The locker room held four rows of lockers. Arthur assumed that Alfred and the unknown man were hiding out in the last row, since it was in the back and Arthur could not see them. He tiptoed to the second row and continued to listen in.

"Don't talk to that boy again. If you do, I will make sure both you and him will-"

"Woah-woah-woah!" Alfred interrupted, his voice weak. "Don't bring him into this, I was the one to talk to him. He had nothing to do-"

Alfred was cut off by a sudden kick to his gut. Arthur heard the door smack against Alfred's stomach and grimaced. Alfred gasped for air and grunted in pain.

"Don't fucking interrupt me!"

"I-I'm sorry..."

"About?"

"Disrespecting you."

No other words were said. Arthur quickly hid as he heard footsteps echoing, only emerging after he heard the door open and close.

Arthur quickly went to the last row and discovered Alfred lying on the floor, blood flowing down his nose and oozing from his mouth.

"Alfred... oh my god..." Arthur let out, exasperated.

Alfred's gaze landed on Arthur. He attempted at sitting up, but only moaned out in pain as he clutched at his side.

"Y-you need to go to the n-nurse."

"Why are you here?"

Alfred's question left Arthur puzzled. The event he just witnessed was enough to make him forget the original reason as to why he was there. "That doesn't matter right now! We need to get you help. You need to tell someone."

"N-no! I don't need help... I don't need to tell anyone."

"Then price to me that you are okay."

A faint "Fine" was let out by Alfred. Alfred placed his palms on the filthy floor before trying to lift himself up. Although he was shaking, Alfred managed to get himself on his hands and knees. He grunted in pain as he placed a foot on the ground. He placed a hand on the locker for assistance, as he went from kneeling position to standing position. He was gritting his teeth and he kept his hand on the locker so he wouldn't fall over.

"See, I'm perfectly fine!"

"Then how about you walk me to lunch?"

Alfred shot a glare Arthur's way before he sighed in defeat, "You win."

Arthur's eyes widened at Alfred's sudden surrender. "Then I'll go get the nurse-"

"No... please no nurse..." Alfred interrupted. "If he finds out that I went to the nurse then I'll end up like this again... please..."

Arthur furrowed his eyebrows as he replayed Alfred's words in his head. He glanced around the room before his eyes landed on a first-aide kit behind Alfred on the wall. "Then let me patch you up."

A confused look appeared in Alfred's face as Arthur walked past him. He didn't even have to look over his shoulder to realize Arthur was collecting the kit of the wall. Arthur stood in front of Alfred and set the chemistry textbook and the kit on the floor before shrugging off his backpack.

"Here, let me help you sit down." Arthur offered. He grabbed a hold of Alfred's arm that wasn't leaning onto the locker. He helped Alfred lower himself into a sitting position before he himself sat down.

The Brit rummaged through the kit and uncovered three cotton balls, a small bottle of rubbing alcohol, and numerous lengths of bandages.

"Why are you helping me?" Alfred questioned as Arthur was rummaging through the kit.

"I can't exactly just leave you after what I saw."

"Y'know, I might be an idiot. But I'm not that BIG of an idiot."

Arthur unscrewed the lid of the rubbing alcohol. He refused to return Alfred's gaze as he said, "my mum and my brother were both abused by someone in their past. I... know the physical and emotional pain they went through. Nothing ever happened to me but I can't turn a blind eye anymore."

"Oh... I hope they get help."

"And I hope you do too."


End file.
